Roger was arriving at the open door of the clinic just as Kimmie was flashing the pass he'd given her to the doctor and informing him, [color=red]"I'm a guest of Major Hamilton."[/color]

It didn't take a genius to know what had brought about her statement; in this day and age of rampant illness and injury, doctors had become even more important than their pre-Blackout predecessors, and this [i]particular[/i] doctor -- like many men -- enjoyed using that importance to get his dick wet.

In truth, Roger wasn't much different. He didn't consider himself a misogynist, as Kimmie herself thought of him. The true definition of the word was [i]a person who dislikes, despises, or is strongly prejudiced against women[/i]. That wasn't Roger; he [i]loved[/i] women. His problem, of course, was that he was in love with -- or at the least in [i]lust[/i] with -- a women who liked other women and [i]not men[/i]. 

Did Kimmie hate men? Was she a [i]misandrist[/i], a person who hated men? Honestly, Roger wasn't even aware of that word, so it had never occurred to him to think of the woman as [i]a person who dislikes, despises, or is strongly prejudiced against men[/i]. No, Roger [i]knew[/i] why Kimmie [i]hated and despised[/i] him, of course. She was a lesbian and had a female lover, and yet most of the visits she made to Bentonville included him [i]inviting[/i] her to his bed to pay for services, goods, or a combination therein.

[i]You're a pig,[/i] Roger had told himself on numerous occasions as he thought of what he often forced Kimmie to do simply to keep her family fed, healthy, and [i]relatively[/i] happy. But, he just went on, maintaining the [i]status quo[/i] between himself and the beauty from the north because it made him happy.

The doctor caught sight of Roger standing just beyond the doorway eying him critically. He ceased his attempt to gain [i]payment[/i] for his services from Kimmie, telling her, [color=yellow]"Your daughter will be fine. She's having a reaction to a tick bite is all. She needs rest and medication, which I'd be [i]happy[/i] to furnish to a [i]guest[/i] of the Major."[/color] 

Kimmie's response was a simple [color=red]"Thank you, Doctor."[/color]

[color=yellow]"Yes, thank you, Doctor,"[/color] Roger repeated as he entered the clinic. He smiled to the woman in his friendly manner, asking, [color=yellow]"Have you eaten this morning, Miss Wright?"[/color]

Before she could answer, though, he quickly asked the doctor, [color=yellow]"Would your patient benefit from an overnight stay and observation from you, doctor? We want to ensure that the child is healthy and fit before she and her mother return home, don't we?"[/color]

The doctor knew which direction Roger was steering him, of course, and while he would have preferred that [i]he himself[/i] spent the evening sweating up a pair of sheets with Lizzie's mother, he said exactly what was expected of him: [color=yellow]"Yes, Major. For the child's health, she should not be moved until tomorrow."[/color]

The doctor glanced Kimmie's way for her reaction, then -- as if Roger's ventriloquist dummy -- told her [color=yellow]"Your daughter should be kept here until tomorrow morning for observation. She has a bacterial infection from the tick bite which should be watched, and -- to be honest -- the drugs I am using to treat her are, well, [i]old[/i] ... [i]pre-[/i]blackout."[/color]

[color=yellow]"Miss Wright, come, let's get you some food and clean water,"[/color] Roger said, offering a hand to Kimmie. The odds that she would actually take it were a billion to one, just as they had been when he'd offered it to her on multiple times in the past. If she didn't take it as expected, Roger would simply use it to gesture toward the exit, saying, [color=yellow]"My cook is preparing a meal for us. Shall we?"[/color]

Kimmie had no choice, of course; payment for services was due, and Roger was intent on collecting immediately. It was barely past noon, so this was not dinner and drinks followed by dancing and maybe the question [i]your place or mine?[/i] 

Outside the clinic, a man in his thirties or so was dutifully waiting with a [url=https://th.bing.com/th/id/R.f101494f4b66073624b842093654d333?rik=wGozApOE614t2A&riu=http%3a%2f%2fwww.motifri.com%2fwp-content%2fuploads%2f2015%2f07%2fpedicab.jpg&ehk=IrMV%2fpU5P4Sxj2x9fRRaUk6ddgrjxKag%2bOJgeDS1DQk%3d&risl=&pid=ImgRaw&r=0]pedicab[/url]; they were actually common in Bentonville, where a company that had made them had once been located. They were almost exclusively for use by the Senior Officers of the militia, thereby relieving some of the work put upon the horses that were used mostly outside the town. 

This particular pedicab had been altered a bit. Its handlebars had been turned 90 degrees to accommodate the [i]cabbie[/i], who was missing his right arm from just below the elbow. He nodded to Kimmie -- almost a bow, actually -- smiling wide as he said, [color=yellow]"Nice to see you again, Miss Wright."[/color]

Roger [i]took[/i] Kimmie's hand this time without inquiry as to whether she wanted help and assisted her into the rickety rickshaw. He then took his own seat next to her, putting them very much in contact with one another. He slipped his hand around her back, telling the cabbie, [color=yellow]"Take us home, Mister Sykes."[/color]

[color=yellow]"[i]Yes[/i], Major, right away,"[/color] the cabbie responded, standing tall on the pedals to get the pedicab moving. He repeated as he often did, [color=yellow]"Right away, Major."[/color]

The cabbie had ignored the uninvited nickname Roger had given him long ago, brushing it off as easily as shooing away a butterfly that had landed on his shoulder. His actual name was Peter Cramer, not that anyone in Bentonville called him that anymore. Peter had been in Bentonville only a couple of days when -- in a drunken rage -- he stabbed one of the Major's militiamen, killing him. After that, he was tried and given a choice: hanging or the lost of the arm that had wielded the blade. A coward at heart, fearful of death, Peter had taken the latter. 

He'd then essentially been [i]enslaved[/i] by Roger, and for the past four years Peter had been the man's 24/7 servant. The name by which Roger called Peter had been unknown to him until his new [i]master[/i] explained it: it had been the surname of the one-armed assassin in the 1993 motion picture remake of the 1960s television series, [i]The Fugitive[/i]. Peter hadn't liked the reference, but then, he hadn't had much of a choice to reject it either. So, for the past for years, he'd been known as [i]Mister Sykes[/i] or -- when Roger was [i]pissed[/i] -- simply [i]Sykes![/i]

A dozen or so blocks later, the pedicab stopped in front of a small but well-kept home in a neighborhood that looked almost as if the blackout had never occurred ... [i]almost[/i]. There were large, deciduous trees out front on the verge of exploding in new spring leaves. The lawn was green and well-kept, another of [i]Sykes's[/i] duties which he performed with tools adapted to his [i]disability[/i]. The exterior of the home needed paint, as did most structures these days, but all of the windows were intact, the decorative shutters were still in place, and large plant boxes along the walkway had perennials in them, some of which were evergreens and offered the home a touch of normalcy in a very abnormal world.

[color=yellow]"Shall we?"[/color] Roger asked as he offered Kimmie a hand from the sidewalk. He looked to Peter and said, "Get back to the clinic. Anything the doctor needs, you get him. There is no need for you to report back to me unless there is something [i]important[/i] to report."

That, of course, was Roger's way of saying, [i]I'm going to be very busy with this beautiful woman, so don't you dare fucking interrupt me ... while I'm fucking.[/i]

[color=yellow]"Yes, Major, report to the doctor,"[/color] Peter answered, again putting force on the pedals and, as he departed, calling back, [color=yellow]"Anything the doctor needs, Major."[/color]

Again, as he offered his hand and/or alternatively gestured toward the house, Roger asked, [color=yellow]"Shall we, Miss Wright...?"[/color] And as he always did once he was alone with Kimmie, he added, [color=yellow]"Kimberly?"[/color]